Sunday, May 15, 2011

In Line

Waiting on these bones
to loose flesh
go brittle
crumble in a pine box
decompose into the damp earth
the tears of God’s to water the grass
and, at the same time …

Waiting on another hot lady
to shed clothes and grow nakedness before me
a cold beer and it’s extended family
the lottery ticket hail Mary
dollar signs in soup bowls
the two weeks notice
the meter maid
and some good head
I didn't’t have to pay for …

Waiting on maggots
to feast on flesh
an eternity of deathly slumber
hospital stays at 85
diabetes mellitus type II
congestive heart failure
the county coroner and the yellow body bag
Hep-C and HIV
and, at the same time,
waiting on the bus
the taxi cab
the trash compactor
the dude in the men’s shitter
to wipe his ass and give up the stall
the atomic alarm clock ring
the quick wedding in Reno
a five o’clock shadow
the past due notice on the mortgage
as the mother-in-law rings the phone
and the dead chime of the door bell tolls.

Waiting on rotting teeth and 401 K’s
prescription meds and constipation
heroes and hemorrhoids
herpes and helium balloons
while, always and forever,
waiting on
the morning paper
the job interview
last call and the bar maid to wipe down the final glass
mustaches and memories
the prom and the pink thong
cigarettes and cancer
B12 supplements
hangovers in the rain
marriage, divorce, second marriage and menstrual cycles
futures markets and brewers yeast
hand grenades and Caesar salads
fast cars and stripper poles
halos and mixed nuts
war time
peace time
and central pacific time
ratings wars and cheap whores
professional wrestling and fish hooks
and just
all the time

For everything and nothing …
for true love and heartache
the cold hands of the funeral director
a Cabo vacation and a hang glider
theater tickets and turrets
diathermia and drunk tanks
embalming fluid and a stitched lip
tax deductions and DMV fees
a warm hand to hold
and the moment that changed it all …

One hundred million things up ahead
some bad, some good
some indifferent, some just ugly
and a lot of them just
but, all the same,
and, all this and more
I’m waiting for
up ahead
at the road sign
marked …


and the final detour
marked …


perhaps we can
wait together.

Todd Nickels

I heard this on the radio back in January as I was pulling away from the gym in the morning. They were interviewing this poor bastard named Todd Nickels. Gave him the whole victim title - Todd Nickels is a pool man and a diabetic! And I thought, what a horrible thing to labeled with. So I turned it around and made my own quote:

Todd Nickels, upon awaking one day, turned to his wife, still asleep in bed and exclaimed, “Fuck this shit! I’m tired of being a pool man and a diabetic!”

Todd’s wife lifted a heavy eye lid, not quite taking in him or his words. Todd got up, put on his sport shirt and slacks, making little haste. He collected his wallet and a few other items and left the house. He tossed his pool net out of truck into the driveway and burned rubber. The last his wife heard, Todd was running guns in South Africa and had a producers credit in the film adaptation of the hit musical Wicked.